Quiet Gratitude
by Tharros
Summary: Kacchako Week 2018: Days 2,4, & 7 (Domiciliary, Stars, and Unity). Bakugou comes to Uraraka for help with a villain hunt. Little do either of them know just how close it will bring them. (Aged-up, sidekicks).
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Kacchako Week, Day Two: Domiciliary! This one is actually going to be a two-shot or maybe even a three-shot and will DEFINITELY include the prompt "Stars" and maybe the prompt "Unity." We'll see.

* * *

Quiet Gratitude

Bakugou Katsuki marched into her apartment like he owned the place.

Stepping out of his shoes and kicking them into the closet by the door, he didn't spare Uraraka a glance—she, with her hand still on the knob and her mouth half-open in a question that got stuck in her throat.

He strode through the open kitchen to the left and into the living area beyond it, dumping his backpack on the small dining table behind the couch like he'd done it a hundred times before.

Only once he'd pulled the folder from inside the bag and spread the contents on the table did he turn to Uraraka, still at the door, to give her one of those looks that said 'move your ass or I'll move it for you.'

"What—"

"Villain," he said, jabbing a calloused finger onto the papers before him. "Case file. Keep up."

"Keep up?" she asked, finally closing the door and trailing after him. "I didn't realize we'd _started_."

He sighed heavily through his nose, like a bull before a matador, as if _she_ were the one wasting _his_ day off. As if she had been the one to show up at his apartment unannounced with only vague explanations and a bad attitude.

"My shitty partner didn't want the case, so I told Ryukyu I'd do it by myself."

A bold move, Uraraka thought, her eyebrows flicking upward. She'd been brought on as a sidekick at Ryukyu's agency right after graduation, Bakugou several months later when no better offers were made. Even as his technical superior, Uraraka wouldn't have the gall to just _tell_ Ryukyu that she was going to do what she wanted. Then again, that was probably why Bakugou was always the one hogging the spotlight.

And yet.

"How does 'doing it by yourself' bring you here?" she asked, the corner of her mouth twitching up just slightly because she already knew the answer. He would never say it in so many words, but he needed _help_.

As suspected, he shot her a look and didn't bother with an answer.

"How did you even get my address?" She went to the tv and turned it off, resigning herself to an afternoon spent with Bakugou instead of the relaxing one she'd had planned. Grabbing her coffee, now cold, from the low table in front of the couch, she plopped down in a chair at the rarely used dining table instead and pulled one knee up to her chest.

"Asui."

"Tsuyu," Uraraka corrected automatically, and Bakugou 'tched.'

Pythagoras, her grey and orange tabby cat, dashed from the bedroom (where he'd taken refuge when Bakugou's demanding knock had scared him out of a nap) and jumped into Uraraka's lap.

Bakugou spared the cat a single, disgusted glance and said to Uraraka, "You _would_."

She stuck her tongue out at him and scratched Pythagoras behind the ears.

" _Anyway_ ," he half-growled, shifting some of the papers around until he found a sketch of a man, probably in his early thirties, with unkempt black hair and blue-grey eyes. "Recognize him?"

"No…"

He pulled out photos then, surveillance cameras from shops and ATMs mostly. They weren't great quality, but in all of them, there was man who at least resembled the sketch.

"Each of these photos," Bakugou said, laying them out in front of her one by one, "was taken the day before the League of Villains attacked these locations. Mostly petty crime, but _this_ was where Toga's gang attacked Suneater and Blitz on their _regularly scheduled patrol_."

"So you think this guy is somehow setting up for the others to commit their crimes?" Uraraka asked, taking the last photo from the pile: a camera on the corner of a lesser city block that she recognized from the news—Suneater and Blitz had fought off Toga, Twice, and some other Leaguers that Uraraka wasn't overly familiar with. They made it out, but by the time backup arrived, Toga and the others had gotten away.

Bakugou shook his head, and the annoyed grimace he gave her was the closest he ever really got to saying 'I don't know.'

"Any ideas as to his Quirk?"

"Nothing," Bakugou said, running a frustrated hand through his hair and finally sitting down.

He had no clue how out of place he looked, with his sleek athletic pants and tight-fitting, name brand, black tank top, among her hand-me-down furniture and next to _her_ in her shorts and t-shirt that had been washed so many times it was nearly impossible to know what their original colors had been.

But the thought would never cross his mind—not when there were villains to hunt down, so Uraraka pulled her short hair into a ponytail and began rummaging through the sparse information he'd brought with him.

"Is there a map?" she asked after a moment. "You know, pinpointing the locations of these sightings?"

"Everything I've got is here, shit-wit," he said, leaning back in the chair and rubbing his eyes. "I was up all night just getting this together."

Uraraka held up a finger and hopped out of her seat. "I bet I've got a city map here somewhere…"

She went into the kitchen and began digging through the drawers where she kept letters, cards, old newspapers, magazines, anything paper that she didn't want to recycle. And sure enough, under a stack of holiday cards from Yaomomo (she sent cards for _every_ occasion), Uraraka found a bent and slightly faded map of the city that she'd bought when she moved into her first apartment after getting into U.A. In another drawer, she found a black marker and brought both items back to Bakugou.

"All right," she said, stacking up the pictures in order to make room for the map, which she unfolded and spread across the table. Bakugou sat up straight as she did so, but it was then she noticed the bags under his eyes, the tired set of his mouth. Even his hair didn't seem as spiky as usual. "Want some coffee?"

"No. I'm not tired."

Uraraka returned to the kitchen and began to heat water, popping her own cold coffee in the microwave as she did so. The counter was all that divided the kitchen from the living room, and Bakugou gave her a sour look over it.

She'd seen him do this before—work himself until he dropped. He was so desperate to move up from sidekick to hero to number one that he often forgot to take care of himself. This time, at least, he'd asked for help (as much as Bakugou Katsuki could ask another person for anything) and she thought it might be the least she could do to keep him from collapsing.

But she also knew that Bakugou would never accept someone helping him purely for the sake of it or—gods forbid—because they thought he _needed_ it, so she returned his glare as she scooped instant coffee powder into an All Might mug.

" _You_ came _here_ , remember?" she said, adding a bit more edge to her voice than she would've with anyone else. "We've got a villain to track and I'm not going to have _you_ holding me back. So drink the dang coffee or leave."

She had one hand on her hip and the other stirring the hot water into the cup, and Bakugou, for once, couldn't out-glare her, so he sighed and clicked his tongue, but made no further protest.

He _did_ give her a skeptical look when he saw the grinning face of their former teacher on his mug, but before he could comment, there was a knock at the door. Pythagoras jumped into Bakugou's lap only to be shoved back to the floor, and Uraraka ignored them both as she went to see who else could possibly be at her apartment.

"Oh! Mrs. Takahashi!" she exclaimed upon opening the door to her squat, middle-aged neighbor. The woman was kind and big-hearted, and often invited Uraraka over for dinner when she knew the young hero was short on money.

"Kaiya, dear," she said, as she did every time Uraraka addressed her by her family name. "I heard raised voices and I wanted to make sure everything was—oh. Oh _my_."

Uraraka felt her face make the jump straight to fire engine red as Mrs. Takahashi peered around her and spotted Bakugou sitting at the dining table.

Before she could even _begin_ to explain, the older woman was clapping her hands and grinning like Christmas came early.

"I didn't realize you had a _guest_! And such a handsome one!"

"It's not like—"

"I hope you're not planning on giving him that _instant_ coffee you always buy!" she hissed, though the effect was lost as she was still loud enough for Bakugou to hear. "Where did you meet such a _man_? Is he a hero, too?"

Mrs. Takahashi was working herself into a world of her own design and all Uraraka could do was stand there and wonder if Bakugou would explode her head if she asked him to. She might not need him, honestly, with as hot as her face was getting—her brain could be oozing out of her ears from the heat.

"Um—"

"I'll go make some snacks for the two of you, okay?" Her eyes were bright as she peeked around Uraraka, who was trying to take up as much of the doorframe as possible, to get another look at her 'guest.' "I'll be back, Ochako, dear."

"You don't have to—" But Mrs. Takahashi was already half-skipping back to her own door and Uraraka pressed her palm over her eyes and sighed. "Thanks...I think."

Uraraka turned around and shut the door, her face still hot and glowing as she looked at Bakugou, who was draining his coffee in gulps and, she thought, pretending that he hadn't heard anything. He set the mug back on the table and looked into it with a frown.

"That tasted like shit."

"You get used to it."

He gave her a look and she sank back into the chair beside him, content to go along with his supposed moment of deafness.

"Okay, not _really_ ," she admitted, exasperated because she was so flustered. "But it's cheap!"

Something seemed to dawn on him then, and he gave her apartment a sweeping, analytic glance that he hadn't bothered with at first. It wasn't in the best part of town, and certainly not as nice or spacious as _his_ apartment (which she'd been to once when Kirishima came up with an ill-conceived plan to throw Bakugou a surprise birthday party). The windows were open and the fans on, even though summer still clung to the late September air and she should probably have the air conditioning running.

And for once, Uraraka was glad that Bakugou didn't really care about other people because he didn't comment on any of it, just grabbed some of the photos and tossed her the marker.

"The first sighting I could find was in July, near the 37 block downtown," he said, holding up the picture while she found the spot on the map. She circled it and wrote the date from the timestamp. "And the next was near Ryukyu's offices. That ATM outside that shitty ice cream place, you know, the one with—"

"Pickle-flavored frozen yogurt?" Uraraka finished, her nose wrinkling in disgust.

"Yeah."

"I know the place. Hado _loves_ it."

"The fuck?"

"I _know_ ," Uraraka said, laughing a bit. She and Hado were partners, and there had been many times when the older girl wanted to stop in that shop for a treat after work. "She loves everything though, so I guess it isn't saying much."

Bakugou snorted and picked up the next picture. "This is some street camera I couldn't get an actual location on. But in the background there, doesn't that look like—"

"Heights Alliance."

"From the back, yeah."

"The closest shopping district to U.A. is about half a kilometer south of campus. Which, judging by the orientation of the building…" Uraraka paused, using her fingers to test angles on the map. "Would put that camera somewhere between here," she drew a small dot on the first street of the shopping district. "And here." She put another dot several streets down and connected them with a circle.

She looked at Bakugou and was surprised to see something like relief flitting across his face, but he worked his features back into a scowl when he noticed her looking and 'tched.'

"I like geometry," she said, fighting a smile because that was probably one of the reasons he came to her in the first place. "Shut up."

They were almost done marking the map with Mrs. Takahashi knocked on the door again. And Uraraka sighed and threw Bakugou an apologetic glance that he ignored as he took the marker from her.

She'd barely turned the knob when the older woman pushed through the door, grinning widely and heading into the kitchen with tray of tea and sandwiches.

"So are you going to introduce me?" Mrs. Takahashi whisper-shouted.

Uraraka brought her hands up in front of her face and waved them back and forth. "That's really not a good idea—"

"Nonsense, sweetie, I'm sure he's wonderful!" She put a hand beside her mouth, as if _that_ would somehow prevent Bakugou from hearing any of it. "I mean _look_ at him! And if you're comfortable dressing like...well like _that_ around him, it seems pretty locked down to me!"

For the second time that day, Uraraka was stunned into standing in place with her mouth hanging open, and Mrs. Takahashi walked right up to Bakugou like he _wasn't_ a fire breathing rage monster and introduced herself.

"Call me Kaiya," she said, grinning ear to ear and close enough to Bakugou that Uraraka genuinely feared for the woman's safety.

So Uraraka thought she'd _actually_ managed to melt her own brain from embarrassment when Bakugou simply said, "Katsuki. Thanks for the food."

Mrs. Takahashi squealed like Aoyama on costume upgrade day at U.A. and practically danced out of Uraraka's apartment.

Uraraka stood in the kitchen and stared at Bakugou like he'd grown an extra head. A polite, reasonable extra head.

"Chill, you fucking weirdo," he said in a 180 turn back to normal. "I figured that would be the fastest way to make her leave."

Uraraka blinked. He wasn't wrong.

"What, you think I can't be fucking _polite_?"

"Well, that statement is pretty good proof—"

Bakugou pushed himself up from the table and came to stand beside her. He plucked a sandwich from the tray and studied it as he said, "I _choose_ not to bother with stupid shit like that because it's usually a waste of everyone's time. Things would be better if people just said what they wanted and got it over with."

"But in this situation it was to your benefit to be nice."

"Yeah."

"Why do you want to be a hero?" The words came out before she really had a chance to think about them, but since she was probably going to implode from embarrassment at any moment, she might as well go out with a bang. "I mean...do you want to _save_ people? Or do you just want to be the best at something quantifiable?"

Bakugou popped the sandwich in his mouth and grabbed the whole tray to bring back to the table with him. "That falls under 'small talk,' and 'small talk' falls under 'politeness.' And we've still got work to do."

Uraraka really didn't consider a question like that to be small talk, but she was thankful enough that he hadn't completely offended her favorite neighbor that she didn't push the issue.

When they finished marking the map, they both sat back and stared at it for a moment.

"Er…" Uraraka began, blinking a few times in the hope that maybe she was missing some crucial pattern. "Does this...mean anything?"

"Other than that this guy is fucking erratic? I don't think so." He looked as perplexed as she felt, though he was clearly trying no to show it as he dragged the map further toward him and hunched over it, his usual uncharacteristically good posture forgotten in his frustration.

"Okay, new approach then," said Uraraka. She took a sandwich from the tray and spoke through a mouthful of bread. "A lot of these instances occurred near pro heroes offices—or U.A.—so what about the ones that didn't? Is there something that connects those to heroes somehow?"

The new train of thought energized him a bit and flipped through the photos again, dividing them into two piles.

"We know this one fell on Suneater and Blitz's patrol route," he said, taking the top image from the smaller stack and adding it to the larger. "And the first responder to this attack was Mt. Lady, who was at a hair appointment in the salon on this street."

Uraraka jotted notes on the backs of the photos as he talked.

When he finished, they had a pro hero for each attack, and Uraraka sat back in her chair and let out a breath.

"So it's possible that our suspect is confirming that heroes will be on the scene before the attacks happen, but _why_?"

"And whose side is he really on?" Bakugou asked. "Because he could be confirming that heroes are there so that people don't get hurt, or he could be planning on taking heroes down or—"

"Or showing incompetence in the pros," Uraraka said quietly. An image of Stain flashed across her vision and she met Bakugou's eye. He'd never really talked to any of them about what happened when he'd been captured by the League of Villains in their first year, but every once in a while he'd mention something about how some of them were trying to mimic the hero killer. "Maybe...maybe they're trying to create civil unrest by showing that even with pro heroes, villains still end up doing whatever they want most of the time. We can't be everywhere, and even when we _are_ there—"

"The villains still get away."

"Yeah."

"That doesn't explain what our suspect's Quirk is or why he's always the one there."

"Well maybe we just need to catch him in action."

Bakugou raised an eyebrow. "The odds of _that_ happening are utter shit. They could attack a lot more people while we play stake out."

"Maybe not," Uraraka said, tapping a finger to her chin in a gesture she'd undoubtedly picked up from Tsuyu. "Look at the names and the dates."

Bakugou did so, his eyes widening in realization. "He's working his way up through the hero ranks."

"Mhm. Mt. Lady was the most recent, and she's what? Eleven?"

"Ten."

"So Ryukyu's coming up soon. I bet she'd give us her schedule if we asked."

"And then what? Stalk her?"

Uraraka wanted to mention that all of this was _his_ idea in the first place, but he hadn't come to her for whining or excuses.

"Well, yeah. I've got a long range scope Hatsume made me after that thing with the tree. It's worth a shot."

"Fine. We start tomorrow."

—

Bakugou was sulking in the lobby when Uraraka and Hado returned from their patrol.

"Ryukyu said she'd assign a higher level sidekick to watch out for the suspect," Bakugou said by way of greeting, standing and steering Uraraka back toward the door with a hand on her arm. "She gave me access to the video footage from the cameras that save that kind of data, so we need to go through it and—"

"Stop for a second," Uraraka said, planting her feet and resisting his pull. He did stop, and let go of her arm with an annoyed look on his face. "I've got to, you know, write my report and shower and change and get my stuff."

She gestured back into the building and Bakugou's eye twitched. The bags beneath them were darker than the day before, and Uraraka wondered how late he'd stayed up after he left her apartment. But of course, to ask would make it look like she was worried about him, and he wouldn't stand for such things.

"Cool it with the Rage Aura," she teased instead, an old joke that mostly served to irritate him further. "Give me an hour."

"Forty-five minutes."

"An _hour_. Where do you want to meet?"

"I was going to go back to your place. There's a shit ton of construction next to my building and it's irritating as fuck."

"Then I'll meet you there in a hour," Uraraka told him, wondering when exactly he'd become so comfortable inviting himself over.

" _Fine_. Give me your key."

"What? Why?"

"So I can go ahead and get started, shit-wit."

Uraraka sighed, knowing that this compromise would at least appease him to some extent, so she pulled her apartment key from the small pocket in her boot and handed it to him.

"It um...it gets a little jammed," she said, feeling awkward again at the quality of her living situation. "It helps if you bend it a bit to the right."

"Yeah yeah, get going already. I can figure it out."

Uraraka turned and began making her way back to her desk, but another thought had her whipping around to face him again with a hand on her hip. "And be nice to Pythagoras!"

"To _who_?"

"My cat."

"You're a fucking weirdo, Uraraka." This, though, he said without much bite as he turned on his heel and left the building.

—

Uraraka almost had a heart attack as she walked down the hall to her apartment and a hand flew out of the neighboring unit and dragged her inside.

"Mrs. Takahashi," Uraraka gasped, putting a hand on her chest as she stared at the small, grinning woman. "What are you doing?"

"He's got a _key_."

"Huh?"

"Your Katsuki. You gave him a key to your apartment!"

"My...what?" Uraraka's brain felt like it was swimming through mud. The words 'your' and 'Katsuki' were not words that made sense together in the way Mrs. Takahashi said them.

But the older woman was, once again, on a different planet and completely ignoring Uraraka's confusion. "Dare I ask if you've set a date for the wedding?"

Uraraka's whole body turned red, like she'd been dunked in a vat of boiling water, and her tongue was thick and heavy as she tried to form the right words, but all that came out was a weak sort of "Wahh?"

"Too soon? I know kids these days are a bit more... _open._ Lots of young couples are moving in together before getting married, so no judgment from me, dear!"

"But...I don't—"

"Just so long as you're safe, hun. As cute as you are, we don't need any little Ochakos running around just yet."

There was _definitely_ steam coming out of Uraraka's ears at that point, but fortunately, her phone started ringing in her bag. She fumbled with it, hands shaking a bit, and when she did finally flip it open, it was to none other than the man of the hour.

"Oy, you're late!"

Uraraka glanced at her watch, her tongue unsticking itself so she could argue with him. "By _one minute!_ Keep your hair on."

She hung up over whatever he was going to say next and turned back to Mrs. Takahashi, who was, if possible, grinning even wider.

"Can't wait to see you, can he?"

"Something like that," said Uraraka, groaning internally at the fact that she was, at some point, going to have to explain all this and likely break the older woman's heart. So, for the moment, she just shoved her phone back in her bag and said, "I should get back."

"Have fun!"

 _Something like that_ , Uraraka repeated to herself.

When she walked into her apartment, she almost laughed.

Bakugou was sitting on the couch, a takeout container in one hand, a pen in the other, with a video going on the tv and another on his laptop on the coffee table. He scratched notes in a notebook with the same manic intensity as Deku while his chopsticks hung half-forgotten from his teeth and his wide-rimmed black glasses (which Uraraka had seen him in a grand total of two times) slipped down his nose. Pythagoras lounged across the back of the couch behind him, as blissfully oblivious as Mrs. Takahashi to the Rage Aura.

"Yours is in the fridge," he said, again forgoing any expected form of greeting as his eyes flitted from one screen to the other to his notebook and back again.

Uraraka dropped her bag on the counter and noticed a new appliance, fresh out of the box, sitting next to her thrift shop toaster.

"Bakugou... Did you buy me a coffee maker?" she asked, annoyed that he thought she needed it, but also a bit amused. "Instant coffee isn't _that_ bad."

"I had a spare," he grunted, still not bothering to look her way. "My bat-shit crazy mom couldn't decide on a brand so she bought me two. And yes. It is."

She rolled her eyes, but smiled a bit because the King of Explo-kills cared about the quality of his coffee.

Not that he actually went by that name, but she liked to use it in her own mind because he was such a giant _dork_ and he'd always tried so hard to hide it.

She grabbed her matching takeout container from the fridge and settled down onto the couch beside him, kicking herself a bit for making an effort to change into her nicer leggings and tank top this time—he was wearing a pair of baggy sweatpants and an old black skull t-shirt that she remembered from high school, one that was nearly coming apart at the seams with age.

"This one," he began, unconcerned with everything but the task at hand as he gestured to the video on his laptop. "Is that street behind U.A. And that one's the big bank ATM downtown."

"So we're just waiting for him to show up and see if he uses his Quirk?" Uraraka asked, popping open the cardboard container and digging in. How Bakugou knew to get her chicken udon with no mushrooms and extra broccoli was beyond her, but she didn't press the issue as she tucked her feet beneath her and focused on the screens.

There were several hundred hours of video footage across the different cameras, and they quickly discovered that their suspect showed up at the scene more than once prior to the attacks, meaning they had to actually dig through each one for every sighting.

It was going on three in the morning when Uraraka, bleary-eyed and frustrated because they've barely made a dent, decided to call it a night. She kicked out a grumbling Bakugou and made him leave everything with her so that he could actually get some sleep for once (because, she told him, he was useless to her if he was exhausted). He protested, but eventually did as she said, and Uraraka fell into bed dreading that she had to be up in four hours, but also glad that she had something other than boring patrols to dedicate her time to.

—

They fell into a routine—Uraraka provided the place, Bakugou provided the food, and neither acknowledged the fact that the other was _helping_. To say something would break the balance, undo the dynamic, and Uraraka, for her part, was content to let it be.

They didn't talk much, just spent hours and hours and _hours_ together on the couch sorting through mostly useless footage, occasionally stopping to laugh at a weird person using the ATM or an awkward interaction on some unimportant street.

And Mrs. Takahashi continued to _imply_ , and Uraraka continued to ignore.

—

It was a week into their research and they were still empty-handed. Uraraka was so _tired,_ but unwilling to admit defeat another night in a row, so she pushed herself just a bit longer, sipping on her instant coffee (she refused to use Bakugou's coffee maker on principle—it was _his_ , he was just keeping it at her apartment) and blinking away the blur in her eyes.

Then, a weight slumped against her shoulder and she froze.

Bakugou had fallen asleep.

On her.

Bakugou had always been an in-your-face type of person, but in-your-space was a different matter altogether. He outrighted flinched when people touched him half the time, so this…

This was new.

If it weren't for the bags beneath his eyes she would've woken him, but he'd been burning both ends of the candle for so long that this was probably his body's way of finally telling him _enough_. And she couldn't argue with that.

But still. The fact that he'd allowed this—given in to weakness, he would say—surprised her. Was he really so comfortable around her that it didn't bother him? When had she crossed that invisible hurtle between bothersome acquaintance and...friend?

She would never say it aloud, but she was touched.

Wide awake with her thoughts spinning like a merry-go-round set to hyperdrive, Uraraka shifted, just slightly, pulling the laptop and notebook closer to her side of the table and continuing to work as Bakugou snored lightly against her shoulder.

The next morning, she awoke on the couch, having at some point been lulled to sleep by Bakugou's even breathing. She sat up and blinked at the light filtering through the window.

Bakugou was gone, but there was a fresh pot of coffee waiting for her in the kitchen.

Uraraka smiled, because it felt a little like a gift and a little like a thank you.

And it all felt a whole lot like trust.

* * *

Will probably go through and edit again later. Right now I'm tired.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: So this is for the Kacchako week prompt for day four: Stars, and the final chapter of this three-shot will be for the prompt Unity. Enjoy!

* * *

Bakugou was acting weird.

Well, he was clearly trying to act _normal_ , and for Bakugou, that was weird.

Usually, when he was stressed, his attitude was a steady devolution from dormant volcano to full-blown eruption, but this time he was shifting from 110% rage to an uncharacteristic forced calm and then back again like the emotion mechanics in his mind were playing a heated game of table tennis.

They hadn't spoken that morning, since Uraraka had stumbled into the office on the late side of eight o'clock and Bakugou had been mid-argument with his purposefully antagonistic partner. Uraraka could only assume he was embarrassed by his momentary bout of weakness in falling asleep on her the night before, but even on the Bakugou scale, his attitude seemed like an overreaction.

She sat atop Hado's desk, watching Bakugou and Polygraph from the corner of her eye as her partner read through the details of their assignment for the day.

"The convenience store on the corner of the nineteen block thinks they've got a recurring thief on their hands," Hado said, stifling a yawn a she twirled a strand of blue hair around her finger. "They think if there are heroes in the area, it might stop. So we're gonna go hang out—" She sat up suddenly, face breaking into a grin as she said, "I've just remembered! There's a _cat cafe_ over there! Ochako, we _have_ to go! I'm actually allergic to cats but—"

"What the fuck do you mean 'extra work'?"

Bakugou's voice cut across the morning drone like a foghorn and nearly every head in the room snapped in his direction. But, being Bakugou, he either didn't notice or didn't care and continued to direct his fury at Polygraph, who leaned arrogantly against his desk as if he genuinely thought he could take Bakugou in a fight.

Or perhaps he just knew that, for all his bark, Bakugou wouldn't actually do anything that would set him back a step on the hero track.

"This is our _job_ you lazy shit," Bakugou growled. "There's nothing _extra_. It's just what heroes do."

But Polygraph, the taller of the two, sneered down his nose at Bakugou. "What would _you_ know about being a hero?"

Uraraka was between them before Bakugou had a chance to respond. She stood, facing Polygraph, with her hands on her hips.

"Says the guy with no greater aspirations that being a high-ranking _sidekick_ ," she snapped without really thinking about it, glaring up into his honey-colored eyes.

Those eyes, however, glinted, tipping upward with the smirk that flicked across his face.

"Ah, lovely little Uravity has some bite to her after all," he said, and Uraraka wished they weren't in the office so she could clock him in the face. "Shame that a little girl is your first and only defender."

Uraraka's hands shook in her anger, but it was Bakugou who spoke, his voice guttural but certain as he said, "She'd kick your ass without even having to try. I think the one who needs defending here is _you._ "

It was a bit like getting the wind knocked out of her lungs, having the entire force of Bakogou's All Mightian confidence directed solely into her, and she didn't turn to face him because that would mean she was questioning him, and honestly, she didn't want to do anything to shake his faith.

Even if it made her heart do an uncomfortable little backflip.

But Polygraph wasn't shaken either, fully believing that neither would make a move to hurt him here, and he reached over Uraraka's shoulder to put his hand on Bakugou's chest.

And Bakugou, surprisingly, let him.

Uraraka, sandwiched between the two boys, could only see bottom half of Polygraph's face, and she wasn't sure what to make of the way his smile faltered just slightly when his Quirk took effect.

"You genuinely believe that, huh?" he asked Bakugou, taking a step backward and searching both of their faces. "Interesting."

Uraraka swallowed hard at that because, in spite of their shared animosity, Polygraph knew Bakugou quite well—fighting side-by-side with a person did that to you whether you wanted it or not. Using his Quirk on Bakugou was likely more for show than anything— _I'm not afraid of you_ , it said—because anyone who knew Bakugou knew that he never made a declaration like _that_ unless he believed it with every raging piece of his heart.

"Damn right," Bakugou said, but it was more of a grumble than a growl, and she still refused to turn around and meet his eye. "That's why _she's_ helping me on this 'extra' work while your lazy ass sits around here all day."

Polygraph looked like this was news to him, dark eyebrows arching upward into his too-long bangs. "How'd you get dragged into _that_?"

Uraraka, still a bit high on Bakugou's confidence, didn't have an answer for him. Not a real one, at least. Bakugou had showed up needing help and she'd given it to him. Simple.

But maybe Bakugou was really getting to her, because she tilted her head to the side, smiled at Polygraph, and said, "That's just what heroes do."

She finally turned, leaving Polygraph to think about _that_ while she met Bakugou's eye.

Whatever she was expecting, it wasn't what she saw.

Bakugou looked like he'd been walloped by an oncoming train—mouth open and eyes wide and some... _something_ there that she couldn't quite place. An intensity that maybe _he_ wasn't even sure what to do with.

She gave him questioning look, but knew better than to actually ask, though when she made to walk by him back to Hado, his voice stopped her.

"I don't need you to stand up for me," he said under his breath as Polygraph went back to lounge at his desk.

It stung, though there wasn't much edge to it because it was _Bakugou_ and somewhere in the back of her mind she'd been waiting for the other shoe to drop since he'd first showed up at her door.

"I know," she said, and she _did_. "I didn't—I wasn't trying to _help_."

Bakugou crossed his arms over his chest, standing as close as he could to her without actually touching her—and Uraraka could only guess what _that_ looked like to everyone else in the room.

"Then what were you doing?"

"Polygraph is a jerk," she said. Not a lie, but also not the whole truth. "You're not the only one who wants to yell at him."

Bakugou looked unconvinced, and Uraraka found herself needing to say more, to explain herself out of the hole she was digging.

"And he was _wrong_ —what he said about you not knowing anything about being a hero. And it...it made me _mad,_ okay?"

That hit-by-a-train look flashed across his face again, but he shook it quickly away and opted for his signature "tch" instead of an answer.

Knowing that was the end of it (at least for the moment), Uraraka went back to her desk, across from Hado's, and tried to pretend that half the eyes in the room didn't follow her there.

"Going to bat for Bakugou, huh?" Hado asked in the innocent way she asked all questions, putting a finger to her cheek in a gesture she's picked up from Tsuyu once upon a time. "That's new, isn't it?"

Uraraka shrugged, trying not to think about the way he'd fallen asleep on her the night before. "We're friends," she said, and the truth of that statement clanged in her head like bell. "Polygraph doesn't just get to say stuff like that."

"Friends? Really? Since when?"

"Recently. I don't know." She wasn't sure why her face was suddenly getting hot.

Hado leaned across the desk conspiratorially, an impish grin on her face as she whispered. "We are _so_ going to that cat cafe, and you are going to _spill_."

Before Uraraka could piece together all the implications of _that,_ Hado grabbed her arm and dragged her off to the changing rooms, where their hero suits awaited them.

—

"We've been working on an optional case together," Uraraka said. She sat on a cushion on the floor, across a low table form Hado, who was leaning toward her with her chin in her hands like Uraraka was the most fascinating thing she'd ever seen. Hado had pushed her tea to the side, forgotten, while Uraraka tried to hide behind her own cup and focus on the cat that was currently making its home in her lap.

There was nothing _wrong_ with what she and Bakugou were doing, and Uraraka wasn't sure why she was so hesitant to tell anyone about it. Perhaps it was like telling Bakugou you wanted to help him—something was ruined in the utterance.

"Why are you acting all shy?"

"Huh?"

"You're leaving something out!" Hado pouted.

Before Uraraka could come up with anything to say, a girl at the next table over—early teens by the look of her—leaned over to Uraraka with a gasp.

"You—you're Uravity!"

She was still getting used to people recognizing her in public, and Uraraka started to smile awkwardly before a magazine waved in her face.

"There's a feature of you in _Heroes Weekly!_ " The girl said, her friends nodding enthusiastically around her. "They say you're dating _Bakugou Katsuki!_ Is it true? Is he dreamy? He looks like he'd be dreamy."

The girl sighed as her friends chimed in with things like "I bet he's a good kisser" and "he's so big and _strong_ " and "everybody likes a bad boy."

Uraraka opened and closed her mouth wordlessly, snatching the magazine from the girl's hand and flipping through it. There was a full-body shot of her and Bakugou standing outside Ryukyu's office—he had his hand on her arm and Uraraka knew that he'd been in the process of dragging her out of the building in his haste to get to work, but the picture made it seem softer, almost affectionate, and Uraraka's heart did another backflip. Smaller pictures littered the page—Bakugou at her apartment building, _both_ of them at her apartment building, Bakugou carrying takeout into her apartment building. There was even one of Bakugou standing outside the door with her key in his hand, taken from several doors down—he was in his sweats and his glasses were perched atop his head and just looked…at home.

 _Shit_.

Uraraka never thought twice able what the other neighbors would think. Mrs. Takahashi was too kind to invade Uraraka's privacy on this level, but that didn't mean the others wouldn't do it. _Heroes Weekly_ was a gossip magazine that was known to give good money for juicy pictures of heroes.

Hado squealed. "I _knew it!_ I _knew_ there was something you weren't telling me! Oh my _god_ , Ochako! You've been holding out on me!"

"Was it supposed to be a secret?" one of the teen girls asked. "Secret relationships are _so romantic_. Ugh, I wish someone would look at me like Bakugou's looking at you in that picture!"

The rational part of Uraraka's brain wanted to counter with ' _Impatiently?'_ But she'd never been good at dealing with embarrassing, personal situations, and so all that came out of her mouth was an ever-eloquent "Uh…"

"You should've seen her this morning!" Hado gushed, scooting so she was closer to the other girls' table. Half the cafe was watching them now, and Uraraka's face was so hot she was beginning to worry about her own well-being as Hado retold the incident with Polygraph, making it seem much more girlfriend-jumping-in-to-defend-boyfriend than what it actually was.

Just a friend sticking up for another, even though that friend didn't need her help.

Even though that friend had spent more time at her place than his own the past week.

But that was just Bakugou being Bakugou—dedicating himself to a thing with an almost unreasonable intensity. Once they finished what they were working on, things between them would go back to the way they were before.

And that was fine.

Wasn't it?

Uraraka couldn't, wouldn't, go down that road. Because that road ended in the same place as the one she took with Deku did—dead center of Nowhere with nothing to show for it but a bruised heart and a wounded ego.

And a friendship that had survived only by the sheer force of will of both of them.

Whatever _this_ was with Bakugou, it wasn't strong enough to make it through something like that.

"Earth to Ochako!" Hado sang, tapping Uraraka on the forehead. "How's life on planet Bakugou?"

"Wahh…"

"It's okay if you want to pretend nothing is going on to keep up the whole 'secret relationship' vibe," said the girl who'd started this whole conversation. "I'd want a guy like that all to myself too."

"A guy like what?" Uraraka heard herself ask, voice too high-pitched for her liking and her mouth utterly out of sync with her brain, which was so far into MISSION ABORT that she thought it might've shut itself down entirely.

The girl flipped the magazine page over to _another_ two page spread. On the left side was Uraraka, in full hero gear, holding a transport truck above her head in an action shot that looked, well, _epic._ The right side showed Bakugou, also in full gear (save one grenadier, surely used and discarded), hot off a fight as he leaned against the side of a building and, like an accident, looked over his shoulder into the camera. His eyes had that spark they got after kicking villain butt and his arms were _bulging_ , veins popping out as they did when he pushed his Quirk too far. Frozen like that, he looked good. Attractive, even, if Uraraka would allow herself to be so bold.

But a photo couldn't capture the Baku Rage Aura, or the manic laughter that _definitely_ accompanied that wicked smile he gave the camera. It didn't capture the way his arms were undoubtedly twitching in pain, fingers curling and uncurling as he waited for it subside with frustrated impatience.

It captured his confidence, but not the desperate purpose with which he wielded it.

 _How YOU Can Get the Bakugou Smoulder!_ A headline, fittingly in orange, sat on the page next to his eyes, and a less-flustered Uraraka would've laughed. As if he ever would _intentionally_ look like that.

"That's not the half of it," Uraraka's mouth said in what was decidedly her biggest mistake yet, but it wasn't until the three younger girls actually picked up their teacups and crowded around her table that she realized the implications of her statement. "Wait, I mean—"

"What's the other half?" one of them asked, leaning across the table enough that she and Hado were likely to literally butt heads any second.

"W-well," she started. There was no determinable way _out_ at this point. It was more a matter of damage control. Because to say that she and Bakugou were _not_ dating would only fuel their fantasy fire. "He...You can't….you can't _get_ a person in a picture, you know? This, uh, 'smoulder' isn't really….like... _intentional_. It's not something anyone could really imitate. Because it's...he's not... _trying_ ," she was totally flubbing it, but Bakugou would be so pissed that he'd been boiled down to something so basic that she felt the need to speak up for him as best as she could. "He's intense. Like, he would blow himself up to make himself stronger kind of intense. And he's got this _drive_ to be the best and you can see it in everything he does. I mean, the guy drinks his coffee like it's some kind of competition. And he somehow always believes that he's going to win and he'll push himself to breaking point to do it if he has to. He looks at the people around him like he expects the same intensity from them and that's what this look is. It's his way of saying 'you better bring it like I do.' And you _want_ to, when you're around him."

When she stopped babbling like Deku in the middle of a mumbling rant, Uraraka made an effort to look up at the others, and all four of them were staring at her with mirroring grins blooming across their faces.

"You're in _so_ deep, sister-friend." This, from Hado, who was smiling like a lovestruck fool herself.

"What? No I just…. _know_ him, is all—"

" _Right_ ," one of the younger girls said. "If you could see your face right now you wouldn't be so in denial."

A small, Bakugou-infected part of her wanted to tell them all to _fuck off_ , but that would absolutely just spawn a whole new set of problems that Uraraka was _not_ ready to handle, so she just buried her face in the cat in her lap and groaned.

There was a comforting hand on her back and a voice that said, "It's okay. Nothing wrong with admitting it."

But Uraraka stayed doubled over, because she knew from experience that there were several things that could go wrong with admitting it— _not_ that there was anything to admit in the first place.

Right?

—

Her face, she thought, was probably stained permanently red, but there was nothing for it but to power through. If anyone asked, maybe she could convince them that it was sunburn.

Bakugou, however, seemed totally oblivious as he marched up to her when she and Hado returned, late, from patrol and demanded her apartment key.

"Ah...maybe that's not—"

"I don't give a flying fuck what any half-wit with with no life has to say. Give me your damn key so we can catch this villain."

He was in her face and she could feel his breath against her skin and her heart stuttered.

But she would swallow whatever it was she was feeling until she choked before she brought it up to him, so she just winced and handed him the key, cursing herself for allowing these stupid emotions to get in the way of her hero work _again._

—

"Oy, Uraraka."

They'd pointedly avoided the Mt. Lady-sized elephant in the room all night, focusing on the surveillance footage with a manic sort of energy, so Bakugou's voice, spoken around his chopsticks as they took a short break to eat, caused Uraraka's heart to make a beeline for her throat.

"Y-yes?" she coughed, noodles going down the wrong pipe.

He had an odd look on his face. He'd taken off his glasses to give his eyes a break and his free hand pinched the bridge of his nose like he couldn't quite believe what he was saying.

"What's _tsundere_?"

"Sorry?"

"The word, shit-wit. What's it mean?"

Somehow, that wasn't anywhere close to _anything_ she'd been expecting, and her brain supplied the answer automatically (as this was _obviously_ more important than when she'd needed coherent thought in the cafe). "It's a word for a manga character—someone who starts of cold and standoffish and eventually warms up and starts to care about others."

"Oh."

"Why?"

She could've sworn the tips of his ears turned pink and he didn't look at her when he said, "This bullshit dating stuff that the tabloids are so hung up on….Kirishima said it made me…. _that_."

Uraraka snorted, and then giggled, and then she couldn't contain it anymore and she was laughing.

"Oy, what the fuck?"

"You—" she gasped, unable to breath properly around the sheer hilarity of 'tsundere Bakugou Katsuki'. "That—oh….oh my _god!_ "

Her back bumped the ceiling and she realized she'd activated her Quirk in her mirth, the relief of _finally_ actually _laughing_ at the whole situation too much for her for contain herself.

"Shut up," he grumbled, but even through the tears that leaked from her eyes she could see that he was fighting a smile.

And maybe there wasn't anything there between them, other than friendship. Maybe she'd been too honed in on what everyone else was saying to think about how _she_ felt.

"Let's get some air," he said, standing and grabbing her ankle to drag her like a balloon out of her apartment.

In the stairwell, she finally composed herself enough to release her Quirk and land, barefoot, beside him. But for once, it didn't bother her and she just followed him up to the roof of the building.

It was chilly, the late September air at last letting go of the oppressive heat of summer, but something like a buzz flowed through Uraraka's veins and warmed her in a way she couldn't quite comprehend.

They reached the roof, a flat expanse of concrete contained by a metal railing, and Bakugou went straight to the edge, gripping the rail in his hands like some sort of anchor.

"You okay?" Uraraka asked, his seriousness sobering. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to laugh at you...I just—"

"It's not that."

His voice was rough, like fresh sandpaper on raw wood, and Uraraka couldn't help but wonder what the magazine writers would have to say about _that._ But somehow, she didn't think they'd ever get it right.

There was just too much to Bakugou, too much depth that he refused to expose.

So much more than _smoulder_.

She walked up next to him, hesitant because she wasn't sure if he wanted her so close or not. Leaning on the railing, forearms pressing into the cold iron, Uraraka looked up at the sky and Bakugou, beside her, did the same.

The stars were faint beyond the city lights, but they were there as surely as Bakugou was, and Uraraka smiled.

"What?"

She turned to find him looking at her instead of the sky, and Uraraka swallowed hard under the intensity of his gaze.

"N-nothing."

" _Right._ "

How could she explain to him that, when he looked at her, he made her feel like the only person in the universe? How could she explain that his confidence in her, the way he'd threatened Polygraph with _her_ strength, made her want to jump out of her skin and made her so _content_ to be herself all at once?

"Well...thank you, I guess," she said. Which wasn't really what she wanted to say, but wasn't inaccurate either.

"For?"

"For today. For Polygraph. And for not being weird about...you know."

He looked on the verge of saying something, but shook himself, maybe changed his mind, and simply shrugged in a way that was all at once so un-Bakugou and so completely _him_ that it made her dizzy, reckoning the two.

"It'll get worse," he said, after a long moment of silence, and when Uraraka looked at him, his gaze was skyward again.

"Hmm?"

"What everyone says." The tips of his ears were red again in the moonlight and he was suddenly so completely endearing that Uraraka could've hugged him on the spot. "It won't stop, not right away. So we're going to have to deal with...you know. Because none of them are actually going to listen to us."

"It'll blow over eventually," Uraraka said, with more surety than she actually felt. "Besides, it's not the _worst_ thing that could happen."

He turned to her then, eyebrows raised and his face looked...well...a little vulnerable. Like he hadn't been expecting her to say something like that and maybe it shook him more than she'd intended.

She laughed, a little breathlessly, and worked up the courage to put her hand on top of his on the railing. He didn't flinch away, though his eyes widened a bit when the rough pads of her fingers grazed his taut knuckles.

"I mean, they could've thought I was dating _Polygraph_ ," she teased, hoping her voice sounded less shaky than it felt. "Gross."

If he appreciated her joke, he didn't show it, and the two stood in silence, the vast plane of the sky serving as a distraction for both of them.

Finally, with a hint of a smile in his tone that made Uraraka's heart do its _third_ award-winning backflip of the day, Bakugou said, "Or they could've thought _I_ was dating Polygraph."

Her laugh echoed against the cosmos, like the galaxy itself enjoyed the rare, self-deprecating joke, and Uraraka bit her lip, because in that moment, standing beside Bakugou, she knew.

This wasn't anything like what had happened with Deku.

This was worse.

And somehow infinitely better all the same.


	3. Chapter 3

Kacchako Week, Day Seven: Unity

* * *

Uraraka woke up.

Which fell decidedly into the realm of Not Good. Because one, it meant she'd fallen asleep, which meant two, that Bakugou had _also_ fallen asleep, since he definitely would've shaken her awake if he'd caught her dozing on the job.

That led to three, the heavy weight settled atop the lower half of her body.

Which, four, could only logically be one thing.

She opened her eyes slowly, taking stock of everything else but _that_. She was lying on her back on the couch, and her hair, still in its short ponytail, was making her head ache. It was dark in her apartment, hazy starlight filtering in through the open windows and the light from the tv casting shadows along the walls. Bakugou's laptop, still on the coffee table, had timed out and shut down, and judging by the stamp on the tv footage, she'd been out for a solid two hours.

The wide windows and electric fans coaxed in enough cool air to make goosebumps rise along her skin, her shorts and t-shirt doing little to warm her.

Her stomach, however, was bordering on hot.

Trying to move as little as possible, Uraraka rose up on her elbows just enough to confirm her suspicions—Bakugou was asleep on top of her, and not just napping on her shoulder. He was passed out and snoring, sprawled out on his stomach between her legs with his head resting on her belly and his arms hooked beneath her back like she was a human body pillow. Bakugou was much too long for the allocated space, so his shins and feet hung off the other end of the couch. Pythagoras, bless him, was curled up in the dip in Bakugou's back, looking for all the world like this was a normal occurrence.

Uraraka eased herself back down and stared blankly at the tv, trying to determine the best course of action.

She could go back to sleep and let Bakugou wake up first and leave and pretend she never saw anything.

She could use her Quirk on him and try to scoot out from beneath him without waking him up.

She could just wake him up.

This was bad.

Something caught her eye: a thin line of light, a bit like lightning, flashing across the tv screen and she blinked.

She blinked again when she saw their suspect, with dark hair and inconspicuous clothes, walking across the camera's field of vision. His hand, at his side, worked through a series of intricate motions, producing that strange light.

"Bakugou," she said, sitting up as much as she could under his considerable weight and shaking his shoulder, forgetting all the possible consequences. "Bakugou, wake up! You need to see this."

He shifted, and Uraraka tried to ignore the way her stomach flipped as the muscles beneath her fingers rippled.

"Mmf," he grumbled in his sleep, squeezing his arms tighter around her and burying his face further into her stomach.

At that, her heart rate went from nervous jog to frantic gallop, and their close proximity sunk in again. And Uraraka...well, she _liked_ it.

This was _very_ bad.

Because Bakugou was here to work on a case. Not for whatever _this_ was.

"Bakugou," she said again, her voice cracking as she used both hands to shake him awake.

His eyes opened slowly, blinking away sleep like he'd really rather not. He came to actual consciousness at an agonizing pace, turning his face into her stomach, realizing that it was not, in fact, a pillow, then looking up the length of her as a full blush bloomed across his face in the most un-Bakugou expression she'd ever seen.

What she wouldn't give for a picture of _that._

 _Shut up, Ochako,_ she told herself, feeling her own face grow hot as they held eye contact for entirely too long. Bakugou seemed frozen in place, unsure of what to do for the first time maybe _ever_.

 _Tell him about the villain, you dummy_ , her brain, in a twist of fate, seemed to be on her side and was screaming at her to do _something_ , but now her body wouldn't cooperate. Her tongue was thick in her mouth and her hands were all but glued to Bakugou's shoulders and they just _stared_ at each other like two dumbstruck fools.

Finally, _finally,_ Bakugou coughed awkwardly and pushed himself off of her. Pythagoras, dislodged by the movement, skittered across the floor and into Uraraka's room, but Bakugou ignored him and said, "Sorry."

That word, of all things, shook Uraraka out of her stupor, because Bakugou didn't apologize offhandedly like that. She honestly knew of only one person he'd said "sorry" to, and it was Deku—an apology many years in the making.

Which meant he must think he'd seriously wronged her.

"It—It's okay," she choked out, sitting all the way up now that he wasn't pinning her down. Her face was still glowing, but she remembered then the reason for her sudden desire to wake him.

"The villain!"

"Huh?"

She reached down, grabbing his glasses from where they'd fallen to floor and shoving them back on his face.

"I saw him!" she fiddled with the remote, turning the video back several minutes, and they both watched in perfect silence, trying to make out exactly what he was doing with his hand.

Trying also, on Uraraka's part, to calm the gymnastics competition happening between her heart and her stomach.

She glanced at Bakugou from the corner of her eye. His face was washed out in the black and white light of the surveillance footage and there was still a hint of pink splashed across his cheekbones. His jaw, however, was set in something that looked a bit like anger.

"Erm...you okay?" she asked quietly. With Bakugou, a look like that could mean just about anything.

"Fucking fine," he growled, taking his glasses off again and rubbing his eyes roughly. "The _hell_ is this guy doing?"

Uraraka frowned, turning back to the tv and restarting the segment. How much sleep had they gotten recently? A few hours a night maybe? It's not like Bakugou could blame himself for falling asleep. They were exhausted.

Except, it was _Bakugou._ And he probably thought that _both_ of them were weak.

 _Tch._

 _Wait. What?_

Uraraka groaned and rubbed her own eyes—Bakugou's irritability wearing off on her was _not_ a good sign. She patted her cheeks and blinked a few times, _Buck up, Ochako. You can do this!_

"Okay, okay," she said, taking a few deep breaths and recentering her focus on the video. "So he's making some kind of light, and he looks like he's walking in a wide circle."

"Yeah, I've got eyes."

"Hush, I'm thinking out loud." She started twirling her fingers, mimicking their suspects motions. "It's like….sewing."

Bakugou sat up a little straighter as some realization hit him at her words. "Or _weaving_."

Then it hit _her_. "Like an invisible web."

"He starts in a central point and works his way out," said Bakugou, running his hands through his hair. The deflated locks went spiky again. "It's got to be some sort of trap."

Uraraka grabbed Bakugo's notebook and pencil, flipping to a blank page and drawing a hasty map of the area where this particular camera was located.

"Put it back to the beginning again," she said, and when Bakugou did so, she squinted, trying to make out the suspect's starting point and marking it on the map. "So he starts here, and then walks in a weird kind of spiral out from this point."

They watched, and it took about ten minutes before he finally stopped his circling and put his hand into his pocket.

"So it stops here."

"That's a _big_ area."

Their shoulders pressed together as they stared at the paper in Uraraka's lap. Bakugou, oddly, didn't seem to notice or care, but Uraraka stood up as her face started to warm and went to the case of discs Ryukyu had given them. Flipping through, she found the footage from the day of the attack in their selected area.

She returned to the couch, sitting a healthy distance from Bakugou, and handed him the disc.

"Put this one on your laptop."

He did, scrolling through the time bar to the fight itself—Centipeder, who'd become the number thirteen hero, and Bubble Girl had been visiting a school, and were attacked as they left the building by League members Skulker and Masquerade.

"Godsdammit," Bakugou muttered after a few moments of watching the fight play out.

"What?"

"It's not a fight."

"Er…" Uraraka glanced from the screen, which was _definitely_ displaying footage of a fight, back to Bakugou. "Is there something on your glasses? We _are_ watching the same video, right?"

He shot her a look and gestured back to the screen as he restarted the scene. " _Watch_ it this time, shit-wit."

It was so subtle that Uraraka was a little amazed that Bakugou had seen it so easily on the first playthrough, but then again, he was _Bakugou_. "It's like...a dance. They're forcing Centipeder and Bubble Girl to the middle of the web."

She looked at Bakugou then, a little impressed and a little in awe of him.

"So…" Uraraka continued. "Why doesn't anything happen when they actually get to the middle of the web? Skulker and Masquerade just...back off."

His neutral look deepened to a frown and he ran a hand through his hair again. "That's what we have to figure out. _Something_ obviously happens, we just can't see it."

"We should try to talk to some of the heroes that got attacked, see it any of them have noticed anything strange. I bet Hado can get in touch with Suneater."

"And we need to go to the Quirk Registry," Bakugou said, standing as if he intended to leave right then. "Go through their records and see if we can find anything like this."

"Now?"

Bakugou glanced at his watch. "They open in an hour and a half. I'll go to that 24-hour convenience place across the street and grab a toothbrush. Get ready."

Without waiting for her to respond, he grabbed his wallet form his backpack and found his shoes in the closet.

"It doesn't take me an hour and a half to get ready," Uraraka grumbled as soon as the door clicked shut behind him. She settled back into the couch, closing her eyes…

"Oy!"

Her eyelids were sealed shut with the thickness of much-needed sleep, but Bakugou had a way about him that was more persistent, even, than bare necessities. Blinking, one eye opening before the other, Uraraka sat up and stretched. She threw Bakugou a glare through her bleary vision—he, standing in front of her, towering over her seated form, with his arms crossed over his chest and a look of poorly contained impatience on his face.

"We're leaving in ten minutes."

Uraraka groaned, but pushed herself up off the couch and stretched her arms above her head as an uninhibited yawn sighed out from her chest.

She tried not to drag her feet as she walked into the bathroom and flicked on the light, squinting at the sudden brightness. She grabbed her toothbrush from the cup and reached into the drawer where she kept her toothpaste.

Except, it wasn't her toothpaste.

Well, it _was_ , but the end of the tube had been pressed flat and rolled meticulously up, squeezing all the toothpaste to the top.

She looked down at the counter then and noticed that Bakugou had left his toothbrush. It wasn't in the cup, but lying beside it, in a plastic bag to keep it clean.

But he'd left a toothbrush in her bathroom.

Like he'd left a coffee maker on her counter.

Uraraka's heart felt suddenly like it wanted to squeeze itself into nothing and expand to bursting all at once.

"Seven minutes!" Bakugou called through the door, and Uraraka shook herself.

 _No time for those thoughts, Ochako_ , she scolded herself, squeezing way too much toothpaste onto the brush and shoving it into her mouth.

She exited the bathroom three minutes later and stumbled into her room, pulling on the first leggings/shorts/t-shirt combo she could find as she yanked her fingers through her hair and tied it back into a neater ponytail.

"Done with time to spare!" she announced, marching to where Bakugou leaned against the kitchen counter with a travel mug in each hand.

He 'tched,' but handed her one of the mugs—coffee, naturally, and not the instant kind.

"Well, hop to it, Mr. Crack of _Freaking_ Dawn," Uraraka teased, leading the way out of the apartment. "Maybe that should be your hero name, whatcha think?"

"I think you're too damn talkative."

Uraraka yawned. "You picked me for this, remember? Take it or leave it."

If she hadn't been so tired, she might not have said it, but Bakugou didn't seem to be thinking about leaving it as they boarded the train that would take them downtown to the Quirk Registry.

The train car was crowded with the pre-dawn rush, though nothing like it would be in an hour or so. Bakugou stayed close to the door, keeping distance between himself and the other passengers, and Uraraka stood beside him.

Then, like an afterthought that was more of a brain burp, Uraraka said, "You roll up your toothpaste tube."

"You _don't._ " An accusation that sat ready on his tongue.

"And I have no regrets."

Bakugou gave her a look and took a gulp from his coffee. "For someone who would probably sell her own blood for money, that seems pretty wasteful."

"Nah-uh." Uraraka ignored the jab and stuck her tongue out at him. "I just cut the tube open when it's almost gone."

"Isn't that just a great fucking mess?"

" _No_."

He tilted his head toward her a bit, an almost imperceptible smirk flickering across his lips at her tone. Because he was right and he knew it and Uraraka wouldn't give him the satisfaction of admitting it. He opened his mouth to say something, but then closed it again, averting his eyes and some of that anger Uraraka had seen before pulled down at the corners of his mouth.

"What—"

"It's our stop," he said, turning and shouldering through the doors of the train as they slid open, leaving Uraraka to catch up.

She let out a sigh through her nose and followed, weaving between the other passengers boarding and departing. It shouldn't be surprising, she knew, the way he went from hot to cold like Todoroki with the flu, but it was still a bit...disappointing—it could be so free and easy between them one moment and then the next he got lost in his head and forgot all about her.

But, well, he was _Bakugou,_ and maybe he still felt awkward and vulnerable from falling asleep on her like he had.

She caught up with him outside the Quirk Registry—a tall, grey building that stretched just as far beneath the surface as it did above. Dark windows told them they were early, unsurprisingly, as the sun was only just making a full appearance.

Bakugou crossed his arms and leaned against the wall beside the door, and Uraraka knew she shouldn't push it, but she also knew that Bakugou had come to her in the first place because she wasn't so easily deterred. She stood beside him, leaning like he was, shoving her empty mug into her bag and playing with her fingers—a nervous habit she'd developed along with her Quirk.

"What's with the extra Rage Aura?"

"It's not _extra._ "

"Different, then," Uraraka amended, trying not to smile at the back-handed admittance of there being a Rage Aura in the first place. "It's like you're fine and then all of a sudden you remember that you've got something to be mad about."

He gave her a sideways look. "Forget it, it's nothing."

"Are you sure? Because if you're mad at yourself for falling asleep, you shouldn't be. I know you think that if you ignore your limits you can make them disappear, but that isn't being strong, it's being _dumb._ "

He rounded on her then, and there was something smouldering in his eyes that wasn't anger—it was fear or guilt or something else utterly unrecognizable on Bakugou Katsuki. "I said _drop it_ , Uraraka."

But she had learned long ago that backing down was the worse way to deal with him, so she stopped fidgeting with her fingers and curled her hands into fists at her sides.

Rising up onto her toes to get in his face, she said, "I will _not_ drop it. You don't just get to bounce all over the place and expect me to sit back and take it. If you want to be moody and angsty and treat me like I couldn't understand it then I'll go home and go back to bed."

He stared at her for a moment, brow furrowed, and Uraraka felt regret well up in her throat.

"Sorry," she said, unclenching her her fists and putting her hands on her cheeks. "I'm sorry. I'm tired and frustrated, and you don't have to tell me anything you don't want to. I'm just being mean."

"I can take it."

"That's not the point! Just because _you're_ a jerk doesn't mean that I should be a jerk to you." She paused, face heating up a bit and she covered it with her hands. "Wait, I mean...crap."

She peeked at him through her fingers and Bakugou, of all things, looked amused.

Of course he did.

"You're weird, Bakugou."

He bonked her on the head. "You're one to talk."

And there they were—back to easy.

Bakugou was quiet for a long moment, leaning back against the wall and not looking at her as he finally said, "It's not just the sleeping."

She didn't respond. Waiting for him to continue on his own was better than trying to rush him.

"It's…" He paused, like he wasn't sure how to voice something that he'd never put into words before. He sighed, frustrated, and ran a hand through his hair. "It's my Quirk. I… I activate in my sleep sometimes."

 _Oh_.

"Not often—not anymore. But I sleep with suppressors on, just in case. I could've…."

The end of the sentence hung in the air between them and Bakugou still wasn't looking at her.

"What...what triggers it?" she asked softly.

"What do you think?"

Uraraka swallowed and studied his profile in a moment of silent solidarity. Because she _knew_. She'd been dragged through darkness just like he had, and when she'd gathered the courage, she said, "Me too."

Bakugou blinked and turned his head a bit, watching her.

"For me it's falling, mostly," she went on. Dreams that started after she'd lost Nighteye and had never really let up since. "I...I'm always just about to reach someone and then my Quirk just gives out and I fall until I wake up on the ceiling."

"At least you can't hurt anyone."

"No, but…" She trailed off as a realization hit her.

She hadn't had one of those nightmares since she'd started working on this case with Bakugou.

"But…?"

Uraraka gulped, her face heating up. "N-nothing!"

"Are you shitting me right now?"

Her cheeks were undoubtedly as red as his eyes and she looked away, chewing on her bottom lip and fidgeting with her fingers again.

"I just, um...I haven't had one of those dreams….er….recently."

Bakugou was quiet, shoving his hands in the pockets of the jeans he'd been wearing since the day before and looking away from her. It wasn't until the clerk arrived and unlocked the door to the Quirk Registry that he glanced at her again, eyes boring into hers for a single second, and said, "Me either."

Then he turned like he hadn't just dropped an emotional bomb on her and followed the sleepy-eyed clerk into the building.

"You're wasting daylight, Uraraka!" he called from inside, for she was still standing without, mouth slightly ajar in the wake of his statement.

Her stomach and her heart seemed to have switched places and she took a deep breath and patted her cheeks, willing away the blush.

"C-coming!"

The voice in her head that sounded like Hado giggled. _You're in so deep, sister-friend._

—

After flashing their hero licenses to the clerk, Uraraka and Bakugou went downstairs, where a line of computers and several floors worth of filing cabinets contained the Quirks of every person in the city and surrounding area. They scanned their IDs and sat down, booting up two of the computers for what would hopefully be a quick search.

It was fairly mindless, searching variations on 'web trap,' and Uraraka couldn't keep her mind from wandering.

Like a highlight reel, she played back the past week and a half—the late nights and take-out and coffee; the small jokes, the accidental touches that he didn't flinch away from; the unwavering confidence that Bakugou showed in her; the fact that he'd chosen her for all this in the first place.

But...she _couldn't_ be falling for him. Even if...even if her heart swelled when she looked at him, even if he made her feel like she was so completely _worthy—_ of trust and friendship and everything else.

She couldn't be falling for him because, at the end of the day, he was more like Deku than he would ever admit. Everything that wasn't part of becoming the number one hero was secondary, unimportant.

And like with Deku, she would fall into that latter category with Bakugou too.

"Got him."

Uraraka was drawn from her thoughts and blinked at Bakugou, his face lit by the glow from the screen and his eyes bright as they scanned the page. She rolled her chair to his computer, stopping before her shoulder bumped into his, and read with him.

"Kodama Taro," said Bakugou. "Calls his Quirk 'Sticky Web,' but there's not description of what it does."

"But it doesn't stick people."

Bakugou printed the page, grabbing his backpack from where he'd thrown it to the floor and shoving the paper inside.

"We can work it out on the way to the office. We need to tell Ryukyu."

Once they were back out in the daylight, Uraraka's phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Ey, 'Chako—CHOO!"

"Hado?" Uraraka asked. The voice on the line was thick and scratchy.

"Ya. Turns ow 'm _really_ 'lergic t' cats."

"Then _why_ did you want to go to a _cat_ cafe?"

"S'cute!"

Uraraka groaned, glancing at Bakugou, who'd pulled the page from his backpack and was studying it as he walked beside her. Ryukyu's building wasn't far enough to warrant getting back on the train, and Uraraka was glad for the fresh air.

"I've got to go to the office first, but I can bring you some medicine later—"

"Don' worry 'bout it. 'Amaki sen'—CHOO!— Mirio over."

"You sure?"

"Ya. Spen' th'day with your _boyfrien'_. You can finish tha' case you're workin' on."

"He's not my—"

"Wha-ver ya say, 'Chako." Uraraka could hear the teasing smile even through Hado's swollen sinuses.

"Whatever, yourself, hun. We are _never_ going to a cat cafe again. For _multiple_ reasons."

"But—"

"No buts. And do me a favor and ask Tamaki if he's noticed anything weird since that fight with Toga and Twice, would you? Have him call me if he thinks of anything."

"Somethin' t'do wit your case?"

"Yeah."

"'Kay. An' you migh' wanna check ou' the _Medallion_ t'day."

"Why?"

"CHOO! Bye, 'un!"

Hado hung up and Uraraka groaned again, flipping her phone closed and stuffing it into her pocket.

"Hado's out sick today—" she started to say, but was cut off as Bakugou's phone started ringing.

"What now?" he grumbled, pulling it out and glaring at the screen. "Gods fucking damn it."

"What?"

He swiped to answer a video call to a screeching "WHAT IN THE NINE HELLS, KATSUKI YOU TOTAL DOLT?"

Uraraka jumped, but Bakugou, unphased, shoved the paper into Uraraka's hand and gripped the phone in both of his, bringing it closer to his face to shout, "WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU ON ABOUT, YOU OLD HAG?"

She'd seen Bakugou's parents a few times before—they'd come to U.A. for various events, and this was admittedly tame compared to some of the conversations she'd seen them have. From behind Bakugou's mother, there was a faint "Um, dear?"

"NOT NOW, DEAR! YOUR IDIOT SON HAS A GIRLFRIEND AND I HAD TO FIND OUT ABOUT IT IN THE GODSDAMNED _MUSUTAFU MEDALLION_ 'S GOSSIP COLUMN."

She might as well have set off one of Bakugou's explosions inside Uraraka's head. _Heroes Weekly_ was one thing. The _Medallion_ was the biggest paper in the city.

But Bakugou didn't miss a beat. "ARE YOU STUPID? YOU REALLY THINK IF I WAS DATING URARAKA FUCKING OCHAKO I'D BE TRYING TO HIDE IT?"

There was silence then, Bakugou and his mother staring at each other as everyone involved realized what he'd just said. Bakugou's ears turned pink and Uraraka's brain was steadily melting into incoherent mush.

 _Bzzt._

Her phone buzzed in her pocket, and she reached for it slowly, like she'd been hit with a time-bending Quirk.

 _Bzzt. Bzzt….Bzzt. Bzzt. Bzzt._

"Well when you get up the nerve, bring her to dinner, you damned coward," Bakugou's mother said, and there was that inexplicable softness in her voice that Uraraka had heard sometimes in her son.

"Piss off, bitch queen."

He hung up then, ears growing redder still, and Uraraka was glad for the group message that was going off repeatedly so she had something else to look at.

 **Group: bABes [9 Unread]**  
[06:23] Mina: OH MY GOD OCHAKO  
[06:23] Mina: :image: bakuraka1  
[06:23] Mina: :image: bakuraka2  
[06:24] Kyoka: okay those are freaking adorable. what the HELL did you do to him ochako?  
[06:24] Itsuka: CUTE! :love:  
[06:24] Momo: I didn't believe it when I saw it in Heroes Weekly, but if it's in the Medallion, does that mean it's true, Ochako?  
[06:24] Ibara: You both look so happy!  
[06:24] Tsuyu: You do look quite happy. Also, I believe everyone owes me money.  
[06:24] Mina: CRAP. I was hoping you wouldn't remember that! T_T

Bakugou seemed to be reading a thread of his own and trying to ignore her altogether, so with shaking fingers, Uraraka opened the first image—a screenshot from the _Musutafu Medallion_ 's website. It was a photo of the two of them on the train that morning, and someone had managed to catch a perfect moment. She was looking at him with a defiant half-smile on her face, eyes bright as she stared up into his. He was leaning down toward her, one arm gripping the handle above his head, and the t-shirt he wore, with the sleeves ripped off, showed the entire bulk of his arm (something Uraraka had been trying not to notice since the day before).

The real catch of it, though, was Bakugou's face.

It was soft, with a crooked grin that curved up the side of his mouth and eyes that were softer still. He was looking at her like she was the only thing in the world. Like nothing was more important to him than whatever it was she was saying.

A stupid conversation about _toothpaste_ and he was looking at her like she'd told him she could offer him anything he wanted in this life.

It must have been so fleeting, or she must have been so caught up in her own thoughts, that she hadn't noticed. But seeing it there took her breath away.

 _Pictures can't accurately capture real life, Ochako_ , she reminded herself, thinking back to the 'Bakugou Smoulder' article in _Heroes Weekly_. _They just managed to catch you at the exact right second. He doesn't really look at you like that._

But still, she went back to the message and opened the second image.

It made her heart do several somersaults, because he had the exact same expression on his face, and she wasn't even looking at him. They were standing outside the the Quirk Registry and she was looking down at her hands— _For me it's falling, mostly—_ and he was watching her like she was saying the most important thing he'd ever heard.

And maybe, then, it was.

She swallowed, the pictures burning themselves into her brain.

Her mouth, the traitor, spoke the first coherent words that came to mind. "Bakugou, you're a _giant_."

It wasn't what either of them were expecting, and Bakugou actually tore his eyes away from his phone to look at her.

"What?"

Uraraka wished she had Mirio's Quirk, so she could phase through the ground and disappear entirely. Her face was surely so red that Bakugou, if he had any sense, would take her to the hospital.

She opened and closed her mouth. Blinked. "Um...I just mean...in the pictures…" She sort of gestured to her phone, because she was fairly certain Mina had probably sent them to Bakugou too. "It doesn't seem like you're...that much, you know, _bigger_ than me. In real life."

He gave her a weird look—definitely _not_ the one from the pictures. "You're fucking _tiny._ "

"But you don't ever…." _Look down on me._

"What?"

"You don't…" She was blushing _furiously_. So much so that it seemed to be seeping into Bakugou's cheeks too. "You don't make me _feel_ small."

"Good," he said simply, but then, as if he needed to explain himself, he added, "Besides, you've got an attitude bigger than I am."

It came out rough, like he was trying to make it into an insult. A way out of this awkwardness.

"Rude," she said, taking the escape and elbowing him in the ribs.

And, well, Bakugou started laughing.

Like _actually_ laughing.

That rare laugh that surprised even him, and he tried so desperately to stop that it only made him laugh harder, eyes squeezing shut and tears leaking from the corners.

And it might've been exhaustion. Or embarrassment. Or stress. Or a combination of the three or something else entirely. But whatever it was, Uraraka couldn't help laughing with him.

"You should've…." he gasped out, hand covering his mouth as he continued to try and stop himself. "Seen your _face_. You looked like _Ashido_ you were so red."

"Me?" Uraraka shot back, trying to catch her breath and wiping tears of her own from her eyes. "I thought your whole _head_ was going to explode!"

And they just stood there, hands on their knees and near collapsing on the sidewalk, cackling like idiots as other pedestrians gave them wide berth.

"Oh gods," Uraraka said at last. Her stomach was sore and her eyes were rubbed raw but she felt _good._

"Oh _gods_ ," Bakugou repeated, pinching the bridge of his nose and _smiling_. He untangled his hand from the back of her shirt, which he must've gripped at some point when the thought hit him that she tended to activate her Quirk when she laughed hard enough. "What a fucking mess."

And the tension between them evaporated. Neither would say anything to the other about the embarrassing things they'd done, and it was a different kind of solidarity that made Uraraka's heart beat a little too fast.

She shoved her still-buzzing phone back into her pocket and, grinning, unfolded the villain profile she'd accidentally crumpled into a wad in her hand. "So, _anyway,_ Sticky Web…"

Bakugou put his hands in his pockets as he straightened, walking a half-step behind her so he could read over her shoulder. "So we know he doesn't physically stick people in place."

"You think maybe the web sticks _to_ people?"

He frowned thoughtfully, and Uraraka looked pointedly away from his mouth, which was pulled into a highly attractive pout _much_ too close to her face. "But to what end?"

"I don't know. Tracking? But what's that got to do with the attacks?"

"Unless it's all a ruse to cover up a bigger plot."

"You think…" Uraraka started, memories and nightmares floating back into the forefront of her mind. "You think Shigaraki is finally coming out of hiding?" She brought the thumb of her left hand to rub across the pads of the fingers on her right, where Shigaraki had once watched as Toga sliced through each of them, sucking the blood with a kiss like a lover. White scars ran across all of them, pinching the skin and serving as a constant reminder of a series of days she'd rather forget—days she spent locked underground with Momo as the League tried to study and dissect their Quirks. Tried to find ways to take them away without their precious serum.

It hadn't worked, thankfully, but the memories were a scar all their own.

Bakugou noticed the movement of her hands and gritted his teeth, his jaw visibly clenching when she raised her eyes to his face. He'd been on that rescue mission, and she wondered if he saw her scars as his own failing. If he thought it was his fault for not finding them soon enough.

He had plenty of scars she blamed herself for, too. _Bakugou would see getting saved by everyone as a disgrace._

And that was the first sort of solidarity, one that wasn't going to break or undo itself in the face of something as stupid as magazine gossip.

Bakugou reached for her hand, and then seemed to decide better of it and pulled his hand back to his side.

"We'll stop him. As soon as he shows that fucking disgusting face. We'll be there."

They arrived outside Ryukyu's building then, and Uraraka shook herself, blinking away all the exhaustion and the awkwardness and the fear and _everything_.

And it wasn't so hard, with Bakugou beside her, to hold her head high and march into the building like she owned the place, ready to do what heroes needed to do.

—

"Good work, you two," Ryukyu said.

The three of them stood in the dragon hero's office atop the building, the information Bakugou and Uraraka had gathered spread out on Ryukyu's desk.

"I honestly didn't expect much to come of this lead when you first brought it to me," she continued, speaking to Bakugou. "I'll have to give you more leeway next time."

Bakugou nodded. "What are we going to do about him? There's an address listed on his Quirk profile. We could go check it out."

Ryukyu smiled at them. "The both of you are going to go log some training time in the gym and the _go home_. You look half-dead."

"We're fine," Uraraka and Bakugou said in unison.

"I think I'll be the judge of that," Ryukyu said, turning to the desk and sort through the images again. "Take Polygraph to the gym with you. Gods know he could use it."

Uraraka and Bakugou exchanged a look and turned to the door.

"Bakugou, stay a minute."

Ryukyu probably wanted to congratulate him further on a job well done, and Uraraka smiled as she met his eye again. That Bakugou tenacity always paid off.

"I'll get Poly and meet you down there," she said, grinning. "Maybe I'll kick his butt a few times in the sparring ring."

Bakugou smiled back, just a brief upturn at the corner of his mouth, and Uraraka turned away before her heart actually broke one of her ribs with its pounding.

With the office door shut firmly between them, Uraraka let out a breath that she was kind of always holding around Bakugou these days. Waiting for the case to finish and for him to stomp back off into the number one grind.

The case, she supposed, was mostly over now.

Uraraka usually wasn't selected for missions that didn't involve rescue of some variety. The sheer number of specialized sidekicks under Ryukyu allowed the dragon hero to tailor each team to the mission at hand. Bakugou, though, was good for pretty much everything. He had one of the best mission success rates in the agency, and if it weren't for his attitude issues, he probably would've already moved up to an even higher-ranking hero agency.

Her heart clenched as it sunk in—this was the end of her involvement with the case. The surveillance team would take over from here, and a field team would be put together for when the time came to actually go after Sticky Web.

She'd served her purpose.

And it wasn't that she didn't want to do missions other than rescue—she'd love to get out there and kick villain butt, but as long as she was a sidekick for a big agency, she had to accept the fact that there would always be someone better suited to the task.

She reached the lobby as Polygraph was arriving for the day, and she shook herself. It was for the best that it all ended now before it got seriously out of hand. Before her heart got in too deep.

"Ryukyu wants us to train," she said, falling into step with Polygraph and linking her arm through his, steering him toward the elevators that would take them down to the gym. "Bakugou'll be joining us soon."

Polygraph didn't fight it, and once they were in the elevator, he pulled his arm from hers and gave her an odd look.

"You really _dating_ him?"

She appreciated that he'd broken contact, giving her space to tell her own truth.

"No," she said, thankful also that he was actually asking without assuming the answer. "We've just been working on this case and people are making two and two equal five."

Polygraph nodded, dark bangs falling in his eyes. "I thought that might be the case. I mean, can you imagine dating _Bakugou_?"

"It wouldn't be bad," she said, a little defensive. "Wait—I mean….well, I guess that is what I mean. He's….a _lot_. But he, you know, makes you want to be a lot too. He makes you want to be better than he thinks you are."

Polygraph snorted. "Yeah, _maybe_ once you get around all the…"

"Baku Rage Aura?"

"Oh _gods_ , never say that to his face."

"Too late."

The door slid open then, but Polygraph didn't move immediately. Instead, he stood, giving her a curious, searching look. "Maybe…." he said after a long moment, finally following her out into the large gym. "Maybe the two of you together isn't as crazy as I originally thought."

Uraraka's face heated as they made their way toward the locker rooms and she bit her lip. "Not like it matters."

Polygraph looked like he wanted to say something and then decided against it. Shaking his head bit, he settled on, "Get changed. Let see if you're as good as Bakugou thinks you are."

She smiled in spite of herself. "Brace yourself, Poly. I'm _better_."

—

"Two outta three," Polygraph mumbled, face full of sparring mat as Uraraka pinned him down, arms behind his back.

"As much as I enjoy watching you get your ass kicked, it's my turn with Uraraka."

Uraraka's heart twinged and she whipped her head around. Bakugou, changed and ready to go, was leaning against the wall behind them, arms cross over his chest like he'd been there a while. He was still wearing that stupid sleeveless t-shirt, but he'd traded his jeans for track pants and wrapped tape around his hands.

Rolling his neck and cracking his knuckles, he approached the center of the mat, where Uraraka eased herself off Polygraph and reached out a hand to help him to his feet.

Standing again, brushing his sweaty bangs from his face and wiping blood from his split lip, he looked at Bakugou with a small, knowing grin. He jerked a thumb at Uraraka and said, "You weren't kidding about her."

Bakugou tilted his head to the side, giving his partner a wicked grin. "Of course I fucking wasn't."

And without preface, Bakugou launched himself at Uraraka.

Fortunately for her, she was well-versed in his opening move, and spun out of the way of his powerful right hook without a second to spare. Behind him, she crouched, balancing on her hands and swinging her legs around in a kick aimed at his legs, but he jumped, flipping in the air and soaring over her.

Upside down above her head, he grabbed her by the shoulder, and used his momentum to bring her with him and fling her over his head as he landed. Uraraka went flying across the mat, but rolled as she crashed to the ground, coming up on her feet and spinning just in time to see him running at her. She ducked under his punch and used his own weight against him, barrelling into his stomach and flipping him over her back.

He wouldn't go down that easy, and turned her flip into a handspring to push himself back up onto his feet.

The movement wasted time on his part, and Uraraka was there when he righted himself, her fist cracking into his jaw and forcing him to take a step back.

Still grinning, he met her eyes, dragging the back of his hand across his mouth.

"I've been thinking," he said mildly, like they were having a conversation over lunch instead in the middle of a brawl. He came at her again, grabbing her by the arm and swinging her around in a circle. "I think you're right about Sticky Web sticking _to_ people. I think it could be some kind of trace."

He made to let go and throw her across the ring again, but she gripped his forearm tightly, and instead of her flying across the mat, they both went crashing to the floor.

Rolling out from under him, Uraraka pushed herself to her feet and backed away a few steps. "A way to keep tabs on the pro heroes before a bigger attack?"

"Yeah, make sure they're out of the way," he said and ran at her again, jumping and aiming a roundhouse kick at her head.

Uraraka leaned back, his foot missing by centimeters, and planted her own feet as she grabbed his ankle and used his momentum to spin _him_ around and fling him across the mat. She allowed herself as satisfied smirk as he skidded against the ground and she said, "Maybe the webs work like individual signal lines. You think he can see where people are? Or more than that?"

A thought hit her then—if their villain could see more than just location, if he could hear thoughts or words or anything else, she might've tipped him off by having Hado talk to Suneater.

Bakugou's knuckles slamming into the side of her face knocked that idea right out of her head.

She staggered backward and his iron arm was around her waist, slamming her into the mat and pinning her there.

"Not a good time to go all space cadet, Uraraka," he grumbled, his face too close to hers for comfort.

But she gripped his arm and activated her Quirk on him, pushing him off her and into the air as she scrambled to where she'd left her bag on the ground by the wall.

"Oy! What the fuck?"

"Give me a sec!" She rubbed her sore cheek with one hand and dug through the bag until she found her phone, but as she flipped it open to call Hado and tell her not to say anything to Suneater, she saw she had a missed call and a voicemail. " _Crap_."

Bakugou popped off a small explosion and blasted himself a bit too hard into the wall above her. "Something wrong?" he grunted, bouncing away from the wall and spinning slowly in the air as he rubbed his shoulder and glared at her.

"If it works like a signal thread," Uraraka said, scrolling through her notifications and opening the message from Suneater. "Then we don't want to give him any indication that we're onto him. What if he can see or hear things through the people caught in his web?"

" _Hey Ur-uravity. Nejire told me you were looking into a case involving my fight with Toga and T-twice? Um...well, I haven't really noticed anything, you know, strange. Some...tingling in my feet? B-but that's it. I-I'm sorry I c-can't be more helpful."_

Uraraka plopped down on the ground, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Whoops."

"If he can see or hear, it's probably only one person at a time," Bakugou said, still floating above her. "There's no way he could distinguish between fourteen different heroes at the same time. So unless he can set some sort of trigger to alert him if someone starts to talk about a specific thing, chances are we're still in the clear. We just need everyone that's been marked to not say anything else."

" _Uravity please report to my office at your convenience. Uravity to my office._ " Ryukyu's voice on the overhead speakers shook Uraraka from her thoughts and she immediately stood, grabbing her bag.

"I'll tell her not to say anything to the other heroes yet," Uraraka said. "Just in case we're right. And I'll text Hado and Suneater too."

Bakugou, fully upside down in the air beside her, nodded. "Now put me down so I can have a go at Poly."

Uraraka reached out, touching his arm and spinning him right-side up before releasing him. They stared at each other for a moment, Uraraka's heart doing all sorts of painful palpitations at the thought that, once they left the office that day, they'd be back to going their separate ways.

"Uh...see you around?" she said awkwardly.

Bakugou, however, looked a little amused. "Something like that."

Before she could ask what _that_ meant, he was grabbing Polygraph and dragging him onto the mat, and Uraraka took it as her cue to leave.

—

After Uraraka blurted out their theory to Ryukyu, the hero, calm as always, just nodded. She leaned against the front of her desk, Uraraka standing across from her.

"It's possible you're right if Suneater has been experiencing tingling in his feet," Ryukyu said. "I won't say anything to the other marked heroes yet, to be safe."

Uraraka fidgeted with her fingers. "So, um, what did you want to talk to me about?"

"You're on the field team for the Sticky Web mission."

"W-what?"

"I've already sent out a surveillance team, and if they can confirm the suspect's location, we'll move in the morning. A warrant is being written as we speak."

Uraraka swallowed, not really believing her ears. "Me? Do you think we'll need a search and rescue group?"

"No. You'll be part of the offence team. Bakugou insisted." Ryukyu was fighting a smile and Uraraka's brain was quickly turning to jelly.

" _What?_ "

"I told him it was his case and he could assign teams. He said the only thing that mattered was you."

Uraraka went to one of the chairs across from Ryukyu's desk and sat down, hands on her cheeks as her face heated and her heart thumped and her mind swam.

Ryukyu took the seat beside her, smiling outright and putting a hand on Uraraka's knee. "That boy has placed a lot of faith in you, Uraraka. It's not misguided. And I know all the gossip floating around is just talk, but don't doubt for one second that he trusts you with every bit of that ridiculous heart of his."

—

Still in a sort of daze, Uraraka made her way back to the lobby, ready to go home for a much needed shower and even more needed sleep. She glanced into the main office space, where Bakugou was changed and sitting at his desk, going through what were probably copies of the information they'd given Ryukyu.

Against her better judgment, Uraraka headed toward him, hoisting herself up to sit on his desk and look down at him.

"See you tomorrow, then?" he asked, smirking and continuing to look at the profile in his hands.

She smiled, too, and spoke the words that pressed so hard against her heart they hurt. "Thank you."

He glanced up at her, smirk softening just slightly. "Go get some sleep."

"Not without you." Stupid, incompetent, traitorous mouth. "No! I mean, you need rest too!" She put her hands on her hot cheeks and shook her head back and forth.

Bakugou snorted a quiet laugh. "You're a mess, Uraraka."

"Hush, you," she shot back, bringing her hands from her face to fold her arms across her chest. She stuck her tongue out at him. " _You_ should go home. Let the surveillance team take care of the rest. I know you want to do everything yourself, but you'll be more use to everyone if you actually _sleep_."

She was right and he knew it and he wouldn't give her the satisfaction of admitting it, and Uraraka wondered, fleetingly, if she was looking at him the way he'd looked at her when they'd argued about the toothpaste.

"Give me an hour," he said.

"Forty-five minutes."

"An _hour_. Or do you wanna go again, Uravity?"

"I'd kick your sorry butt this time," she told him, courage rising up inside her even as she thought her heart was going to cut and run at the spark in his eyes. "But _promise?_ No more than an hour?"

She extended a pinky to him, and he gave her a skeptical look.

"Are you in kindergarten or what?"

But she didn't flinch or back down, and after what seemed like an eternity, Bakugou wrapped his own pinky around hers, squeezing it a bit too tight.

" _Fine_. I fucking promise. Weirdo."

"Good. I'll see you tomorrow then."

And, heart full to bursting, Uraraka hopped off his desk and made her way home, showering and then falling into bed, asleep before she even hit the mattress.

—

Battle raged around her, but Uraraka was rooted to the spot.

They'd arrived at Sticky Web's address to find him alone, but seconds later, League member after League member teleported to the scene, resulting in a messy fight with no clear objective other than to get Sticky Web and get out.

But Shigaraki Tomura stood in front of her, the house crumbling around them.

"It's been a while, Uravity," he said, his face obscured by that decrepit hand. "How's the Quirk?"

She swallowed, willing her body to move but behind her eyes all she saw was Toga sliding a jagged blade across the pads on her fingers while Shigaraki sat, eyes bright as he licked his lips and watched.

"Her Quirk's fine, asshole, and you're about to regret ever messing with her."

Bakugou slid into the fight, bleeding in several places and practically vibrating with adrenaline. His hand on her shoulder shook her out of her shock and she met his eye just briefly.

 _That boy has placed a lot of faith in you, Uraraka._

"Let's kick some ass," he said, a challenge and a promise.

And with him beside her, it was easy.

She flew at Shigaraki, Bakugou on her heels, and slammed a punch into his stomach before he ever saw it coming. She jumped out of the way as Bakugou's right hook exploded into the side of Shigaraki's head, and the villain staggered as the disembodied hand was wrenched away. He reached out to latch onto Bakugou, but Uraraka was there, tackling Shigaraki to the ground before his destructive touch could find purchase. He reached for her arm, but she leapt into the air, activating her Quirk and floating above him for a moment.

Bakugou ran toward Shigaraki then, his finger on the pin of his grenadier, and shouted up to her, "Now, Uravity!"

And maybe it was the result of fighting beside and against Bakugou for _years_ , but she understood.

She released her Quirk, falling at Shigaraki from behind while Bakugou kept his attention at the front. She made a few quick jabs at the villain's exposed neck, disabling him briefly, and then used his shoulders to push herself back into the air as Bakugou pulled the pin.

She landed behind Bakugou, slamming her back into his like a brace to help him take the recoil from the grenadier. They jumped back then, falling into defensive stances and waiting for the smoke to clear as what was left of the wall crumbled in the face of Bakugou's explosion.

But when it did clear, Shigaraki was gone.

" _Godsdammit_ ," Bakugou hissed, shaking out his arm.

" _All units stand down,"_ Ryukyu's voice came over their coms. " _Sticky Web is in custody and the rest of the League has disappeared. I repeat: All units stand down."_

They made their way out to the main road, where the rest of the force was gathering. Prism, a sidekick who could create anti-Quirk zones, was containing their suspect, so at least they had that going for them.

"Good work, team," Ryukyu said as she approached Uraraka and Bakugou, placing a hand on each of their shoulders. "We accomplished our objective, making this mission a success! Once Poly interrogates Sticky Web, we might even have more info on the League as a whole."

"Shigaraki was here," Uraraka said, looking down at her hands and fidgeting with her fingers. "We let him get away."

"You both did excellently," Ryukyu assured her. "If it hadn't been for your persistence, Sticky Web would've slipped under all of our noses until it was too late. You're both to be promoted to level three sidekicks. Now smile, you two. We've got interviews before we go back to the office."

Uraraka swallowed hard, wiping sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand. Bakugou stood beside her, so close her elbow brushed his chest as she moved.

"Don't let that coward scare you," he said under his breath as the news anchors and cameramen began making their way onto to the scene. "If you let him get in your head, he wins."

"But—"

"No buts," Bakugou said, his hand gripping hers as he ran his thumb across the scarred pads of her fingers. "That's twice now you've bested him. We keep fighting until we beat him for good."

And he was right.

That's what heroes do.

He'd been through just as much hell with the League as she had—more, even—and if he could still say that, then she could believe it too.

Cameras were fighting their way across the rubble toward them and Bakugou let go of her hand. Uraraka's heart stuttered and she bit back the disappointment. This had been the goal. They'd accomplished the goal. She should be happy about a job well done and _not_ sad about what it might mean for this tentative friendship with the hero standing beside her.

Psyching herself up for the inevitable ' _We're NOT dating'_ interview, Uraraka was thoroughly surprised when Bakugou slung an arm around her shoulders and started guiding her toward the news crews.

And...it wasn't a possessive arm. It wasn't a grip that curled her into his side. It pushed her outward, in front. Like he was forcing her into the spotlight that was aimed at him.

Then, his mouth was at her ear, lips just grazing her skin as he breathed, "You know…being ' _tsundere_ ' isn't so bad….when it's with you."

Uraraka's heart stopped beating altogether.

She tripped over her feet, but his arm, still hooked around her shoulders, tightened to steady her.

"I only meant…." he said, his ears turning pink as she gathered to courage to look at him. "But if you don't want—"

When she met his eyes they were open and vulnerable again, but she could see the walls coming back down as she failed to respond properly.

"It's not that," she said quickly, breathlessly. "It's just...that's the single most _tsundere_ thing you've ever said, Bakugou Katsuki."

Stupid brain. Stupid mouth.

But Bakugou smiled, amused again with her absurdity.

"Just Katsuki. If you want."

The smile that spread across her face was so wide it hurt. "I take it back. _That's_ the most _tsundere_ thing you've ever said….Katsuki."

His name had barely left her tongue before his lips crashed into hers.

And his kiss was as blazing and wild as an inferno.

—

Hours later, after interviews and debriefings and showers, Uraraka and Bakugou stood outside the Ryukyu building, alone for the first time since early morning the day before, when they'd woken up tangled together on her couch.

"Can I...um…" Uraraka started as they meandered toward the train station. "Can I say something really awkward?"

Bakugou gave her a sideways look, walking closer to her than he had before, but not touching her, and Uraraka worried that he might be having second thoughts. Post-fight exhilaration could make people do crazy things.

"It wouldn't be the first time."

Uraraka stuck her tongue out at him, but then looked down, fidgeting with her fingers. "It's just that….ugh, I don't know how to word this except for bluntly, so here it goes: If we do, you know, become a _thing_ , won't I always be secondary? Won't your hero work always be more important than anything else?"

She wasn't meeting his eye, and she was surprised when one of his calloused hands slid between hers, his fingers entwining themselves with her scarred ones and stopping her fidgeting.

"You're _dumb_."

But it didn't feel dumb to her. It was what Deku had said to her once upon a time.

"You…." Bakugou continued, in that way he had of trying to voice something that he didn't know how to put into words. It came out stilted and broken. "You're part of it. You're…. _good_ for me. And it's stupid, but you make me a better hero. You make me….want….to not just be great, but to be, you know, good, too. You make me better. And….I like to think that I make you better too, but I wonder if I'd just be bad for you…."

Uraraka was quiet for a long time, trying to come up with the words to tell him how he made her feel so much bigger and stronger and fiercer. How just being around him made her want to push herself so far beyond her limits that she became the best hero she could ever hope to be.

How his confidence in her stopped her nightmares. How him choosing her to help him with this case meant more than she could ever accurately explain.

They reached the train station, but didn't head to a boarding platform, as that would mean separating. Instead, they stood, away from the crowd against a wall, and Uraraka _finally_ found a connection between her brain and her heart and her mouth.

"You are... _so much_ of the reason that I'm standing here, Katsuki," she said quietly, her fingers still laced between his as she stood in front of him. His eyes were hard and soft at the same time, like he was trying to build up his walls just in case but they were cracking as he looked at her. "Ever since our first year at U.A….you always treated me like an equal. When you went all out against me at the Sports Festival first year….it inspired me. It made me think that maybe I could be as good as you thought I was. I went to Gunhead because of you, which saved Tsuyu and me both from Toga when the League attacked our camp. And then when we faced each other in the finals second year….you have no idea how much I needed that, how much you continuing to throw everything you had at me made me feel so strong. And….and then you came to _me_ with this case. Me, above anyone else. And...I'm strong, and I _know_ that. But seeing me through your eyes makes it all seem so much more important. You make me feel...worthy of trust and partnership and heroism. So….please, _please_ don't think for one second that you're bad for me."

And it wasn't so hard to be vulnerable in front of him, not when he made her so strong.

The walls in his eyes crumbled just as surely as if he'd blasted them with a grenadier, and he pulled her to him, wrapping her in his arms and burying his face in her shoulder without a thought for the throngs of people around them. And maybe he was thinking the same thing—maybe she made him feel strong enough to be vulnerable too.

"Come home with me," he said into her neck, his breath warm against her skin in a command that contained all his unasked questions.

She smiled against his shoulder, fingers lacing into the back of his shirt. "What about the construction? 'Fucking annoying,' you said, if I'm not mistaken."

"Don't give a fuck," he said, arms tightening just slightly around her. "You matter more."

And, even if she wanted to, she couldn't deny him after that.

—

Curse herself and Bakugou both for being weird and awkward _dweebs._

They'd reached his apartment, near dead on their feet from sheer exhaustion, and they just stood there in his kitchen (much nicer, Uraraka noted, than her own) staring at each other like middle schoolers on a first date.

That is, until Uraraka noticed his coffee maker.

"You _liar,_ " she said, though there wasn't as much bite to it as she would've liked. "You said your mom bought you two different brands, so _why_ is that the exact same one you brought to my apartment?"

"Because I didn't want to drink shitty ass instant coffee and you shouldn't either," he said, ears going red. "Besides, if you get to be all 'you're just going to slow me down unless you take care of yourself' to _me,_ then I get to take care of _you_ when you don't want it, too."

Uraraka swallowed. She'd thought that saying it would break the spell, that something would be lost if they admitted to helping each other, but this didn't feel like a loss at all.

It felt...well...like trust. Bigger, even, than before.

"C'mon, you damn weirdo," he grumbled, resting his arm around her shoulders and steering her toward the bedroom. "I'm fucking exhausted."

They entered the room, where a large bed dominated most of the space and a private bath sat open to the side, and Uraraka again felt awkward. Because she wasn't _really_ ready for everything this might entail.

But Bakugou went to the dresser, rummaging through it and pulling out a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants and holding them out to her.

"You can change in the bathroom," he said. Then, ears glowing again, he continued, "We don't, you know, need to move so fast. I don't expect...I mean…. _sleeping_ is good. Just sleeping. I just want…. _you_. This. Us."

She took the clothes from him, standing on her toes to give him a quiet kiss on the lips. "You and this and us is good," she assured him, thankful, again, for the way her brain and her mouth were finally in sync.

She went to the bathroom and pulled on the clothes he'd given her—another skull t-shirt, soft with age and wear, and sweatpants so long she had to roll them at the bottom and the top to avoid them dragging along the ground.

"There's an extra toothbrush in the drawer by the sink," Bakugou said through the door, and Uraraka looked. It had been a two-pack, the orange one already in the cup by the faucet.

It might've been coincidence, but a pink one remained.

She pulled out his pristinely rolled toothpaste tube and couldn't help a small smile.

"Don't even _think_ about unrolling the toothpaste!"

"Wouldn't dream of it," Uraraka said through the door, unable to erase her grin as she brushed her teeth and, after a moment's thought, dropped her now-claimed toothbrush in the cup next to his.

She exited the bathroom to find him waiting outside it, and his eyes flicked up and down her once, ears still adorably red as his brain seemed to reconcile her in his clothes. Instead of commenting, he brushed by her and into the bathroom, and Uraraka, too tired to resist, climbed into the bed.

He exited the bathroom a moment later, _shirtless_ , and Uraraka shut her eyes to avoid noticing too much of him. He climbed into the bed behind her and seemed to hesitate for a single second before his arm snaked around her, pulling her back into his chest as he pressed his nose behind her ear, lips grazing the tender hollow place between her jaw and her neck.

There was a thin metal band around his wrist—a Quirk suppressor—but somehow, Uraraka had no fear of Quirk inducing nightmares curled into him as she was.

They were quiet for a long moment, breathing together like that was all that mattered in the world.

And then, as she was beginning to drift off, Bakugou inhaled.

"Mm, 'Chako?" he mumbled against the space beneath her ear.

"Hmm?" she asked around her heart, which expanded into her throat at her name in his sleepy voice.

"Thank you."

She reached for his hand, curled against her stomach, and entwined her fingers with his. "Always, Katsuki."

He squeezed her hand, tightening his arm around her and pulling her into him until their bodies were flush against each other at every possible point.

Just when she thought he'd fallen asleep, he shifted again, nuzzling against her ear and speaking the words he'd been silently telling her all along. "I'm counting on it, Ochako."

And coffee and toothpaste and unexpected naps might mean trust in this odd little world they'd built together, but they had _nothing_ on those five perfect words.

"I'm counting on you, too."

* * *

END

* * *

Me: I'm not going to make this too fluffy.  
Also me: *jumps headfirst into a massive vat of cotton balls screaming KACCHAKOOOOOO*

Anyway, this is the end of Quiet Gratitude and my last piece for Kacchako Week 2018 (I know it's way late, shut up). Thank you all so much for all the love and support!

Y'all can always hit me up on tumblr (tharroswrites) and I've joined the Kacchako Discord Server too, so come scream with me sometime.


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